


Queen of Crowley

by castielsmistress



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-18 14:18:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4709072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsmistress/pseuds/castielsmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were a young girl, only age 19, when you met Crowley; making a deal in turn for your little sister's life. Now, however, Crowley has you in Hell to do as he pleases. First person POV, reader insert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The beginning

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.  
I hear the pocket watch in the front of my flannel, and my finger taps against the counter as I down another shot. Only the second of today, but still terrible considering my baby sister in the hospital bed from the cancer in her lungs. I hit my glass on the table, asking for another drink.   
My sister is dying, and I’m out drinking.  
I felt a draft float by, and heard a voice from behind me.   
“You don’t have to ‘let her die’, darling,” the gruff voice said, as I jumped up, nearly falling out of my barstool.  
“Who are you?”  
“Who am I?” The man asked as he gave a throaty chuckle, “Ah, yes, a proper gem you are. No, love, the proper question is along the lines of what can I do for you?”   
My eyes settled on him after I turned around, noting his short brown hair and entrancing hazel eyes. He wore a suit, expensive looking, and I batted my eyes at how attractive he was for his age (obviously old enough to be my father).  
“What can a man old enough to be my papa do for a girl with a dying sister?”  
I inwardly cringed at my words. Really, (y/n)? That line was terrible!  
The man snapped his fingers, and I was outside the grocery store, falling into the stranger in front of me.   
Really, really, really not my day.  
He caught me with surprising ease, holding me up in his arms. “Usually I don’t get this until the second deal,” he chuckled under his breath as he righted me, “Now, about that dying sister…”  
I looked around me, breathing in deeply to try and clear my head. Away from the stench of alcoholics, people who hadn’t showered in days, and too much Axe, I could smell him; sulfur, old whiskey and some musky, elegant cologne.   
“What of my sister?” I asked, confusion over my face as I took a step back from him. Then another, and another, and another until I felt a chest behind me. Did he… teleport?  
I gasped, and felt arms snaking around my abdomen and my chest, and breathing tickling my ear.   
“What of my sister?” I asked, feeling his grip tighten as my breathing all but stopped. Who is this man?  
“What if I told you that I could make her well again, promise that she’d live a long life, for only a small price?”  
I tried to back up, and hit his chest as I became light headed. I leaned back heavily on the man, my eyes closing as I tried to breathe.   
“Sweetheart, you can trust me on this. I can take the cancer away, for an itty, bitty price.”  
“What’s the price?” I asked, my head spinning, his husky tone in my ear.  
“I need your soul… after you die, of course,” he added, rushed, like there were things he refused to say.  
“And you are…what, exactly?” I asked, feeling the man’s touch begin to move to my neck and my side; his hand slowly glided up my cheek, playing with a strand of (h/c) hair. “You’re not human.”  
“Ah, no, love,” he said quietly, “I am a pesky crossroads demon, the name is Crowley.”  
I nodded, “Seal it.”  
He smirked, flipping me around to face him. “All deals are sealed... with a kiss.”  
And his lips were on mine, his tongue poking and prodding to get in closer. A hand reached down to grab my ass and I gasped. His tongue readily entered my now open mouth, and I couldn’t help it. I wove my hands into his hair, as his light stubble scratched my face. I tried to jump up and latch my legs around his waist, but he disappeared, and I fell on my ass on the ground.  
His voice echoed a moment after he left, “See you in ten years, darling.”


	2. Chapter 2

I could hear them coming before I saw the door slam open.  
I had cornered myself in my small apartment, all day, sitting in a circle of salt (I had heard it’d protect me), with a margarita (and the salt shaker), crying mostly. Selling my soul? Yeah, (y/n), great idea. Fucking fabulous. Now you’re only going to suffer in Hell for all of eternity, probably become a demon.   
The howls came closer.  
I had trembled, sobbed, fucking hit myself against the ground a billion times cursing myself before my phone rang. I was too afraid to leave my circle, too afraid of the hellhounds getting me to answer. But I heard the voicemail, possibly the last time I’d hear my sweet sister’s voice.  
“Hey, (y/n), it’s (s/n). I’m just calling to let you know that I the doctor’s appointment went well – I’m still cancer free, healthier than ever! The baby is going to be a girl, and I’m going to name her after you. Why don’t you get a boyfriend? I need nieces! Call me!”  
I had gotten off the floor, and went over to the bar, pouring myself another flavorful drink with entirely too much salt. I thought of my sister, in a house three towns over, completely well, married to the love of her life with one little boy and a baby girl on the way and I realized something.  
I don’t give a fuck about hellhounds.   
It was worth it.  
I claimed a seat on my couch, out of the safety of my salt circle and I propped my feet up on the table. A playlist came on, and I allowed myself to get up and dance to the smooth rhythms washing over me. Suddenly, my door burst open.  
I didn’t care.  
I heard the dog’s labored breaths, and I heard my door close before I turned to continue my dancing. Then suddenly, it all stopped, and a gravely accent washed over me.  
“Hello, love.”  
I turned around, smiling at the demon as I took a sip of the margarita. He was straightening his jacket, then his tie. He looked at me with a glint of evil in his eyes.  
“Where’s the hellhounds?”  
“I’d rather collect you myself.”  
I raised an eyebrow, going over to hold out an offer of whiskey. “Drink?”  
He shook his head, and I placed it back on the counter.  
“Here’s the deal,” he said, edging closer. “Normally, we send out hellhounds as a prelude to hell, where you will be tortured, blah blah blah,” his face contorted, as his voice went into a yell, “but you’re a sneaky little loving bitch, and the system didn’t quite work now did it?”  
I laughed, and he began a heated advance towards me until he had me backed against a wall, arms on either side of my head. His body trapped mine, and I began to sweat through my clothes.  
“Now, I’m taking you to hell and you’re going to be my personal plaything until you learn how to act.”  
My eyes widened; demon’s plaything? What have I done?  
“Hip hip, cheerio, lass. Off we go.”   
His arm hit mine and he audibly snapped, and my stomach felt queasy as I noticed that my surroundings were different. My feet lost their ground, and I stumbled into… I think his name was Crowley?  
“You can thank me later, darling, now be a good pet and get in your cage.”  
He pushed me back into a dungeon like room, no light, and slammed the door. There was a small window, and I saw him snap again as I became chained to the wall.   
“Now, love, the real fun begins.”  
There was a searing pain in my throat as I knew what death felt like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is gonna have a super graphic next chapter, I'm so sorry!  
> I'm also sorry for my lack of posting, school is kicking my ass. I have the next four chapters written, and will try to post one every week.   
> Thanks guys!

**Author's Note:**

> What'd you think? This is my first reader insert for Supernatural, so critique is welcome but please don't be harsh! Thank you for reading, I promise to update ASAP. Also, if anyone wants to be a beta reader, let me know?  
> Thank yoooooou


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